


Between the Lines

by spn_wincest_etc (babybrotherdean)



Series: Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Dean Bears The Mark of Cain, I mean there's a little plot but like, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Dean, and he's afraid of hurting Sam, but Wincest prevails, not very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3358586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/spn_wincest_etc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I trust you." Sam repeats the words, whisper-soft, reaches up to cup Dean’s cheek. "You gotta try to trust you, too."</p><p>Maybe it’s the words, maybe it what he can hear Sam saying without them. Maybe he’s just overwhelmed by having this back after so long. Whatever the reason, Dean finds himself nodding, swallows hard and glances at the Mark and <i>wills</i> it to stay quiet.</p><p>"Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, alright. Okay."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines

**Author's Note:**

> _Dean hasn't been wanting to have sex with Sam because of the mark, and Sam is just so horny and NEEDY for Dean and Dean's cock, that Dean gives in, and fucks Sam, nice, slow, and deep. :D Fluff it up it you want!_
> 
>  
> 
> This one was a prompt from an anon, so... thank you, anon! Mostly porn, a little fluff. A sprinkle of angst. Enjoy!

If there’s anything Dean’s learned while he’s been under the Mark’s influence, it’s that he really just can’t trust himself anymore.

Even looking back on everything he’s done, he’s ashamed and a little bit scared of the sort of violence he seems to be capable of. It shouldn’t be a big deal, not when it’s demons and monsters and humans who are just as bad, but it’s not hard to imagine that rage being sent in the wrong direction. He’s pictured it, before, had nightmares about following through on some of the threats he made towards his brother while he was a demon.

It’s been getting better, recently, now that they’re hunting again and Sam’s offering whatever support he can, but Dean’s still not quite ready to trust himself yet. Between that and the demon thing and all the fighting they’d done after the angels fell, he’s pretty sure it’s been months _(eight months and fourteen days, not that he’s counting)_ since he and Sam have really touched each other.

It’s not that Sam doesn’t want it, not recently. Though he’d had plenty of reservations after finding out about Gadreel, they’re past that now, at least enough to focus on the crisis at hand. Sam’s made it more than clear with his long looks and lingering touches _(hands on shoulders or elbows or knees when they’re sitting)_ that he’s ready to try this again, to pick up their not-quite-brotherly relationship right where they’d left off.

But Dean isn’t ready to trust himself with his brother, not in the way that Sam seems to want. He loses control so much more easily than that time Before, and the idea of being overwhelmed with that need, that thirst for blood while he’s with his brother, while Sam’s vulnerable like that… 

It’s unacceptable. Dean’s not going to allow something like that, not now, not ever.

It very quickly becomes apparent that Sam has other ideas.

It’s a Thursday, he thinks, doesn’t really bother to keep track of the days while he’s holed up in the bunker, searching for a solution- a spell, an object, hell; at this point, confirmation that amputation would work would be good enough for him- when Sam knocks on his door, doesn’t bother waiting for an answer before he opens it. 

Dean glances up from the book he’s got open on his lap, raises an eyebrow when Sam shuts the door behind him. “Hey.”

"We need to talk," is how Sam replies, looks serious as he steps closer, pauses at the foot of Dean’s bed.

Dean sighs, rubs at his forehead. “Alright, so talk.”

"Is it the Mark?"

It’s not really the question Dean’d been expecting, so it catches him off-guard, and he blinks a couple times. “Uh… want to clarify that for me?”

Sam presses his lips together in a thin line, doesn’t look happy. “Is that the reason why you haven’t touched me in so long?” And he looks almost _hurt_ , too, Dean realizes with a distant pang of guilt. He doesn’t let himself think about that.

"Yeah, it’s the Mark." Dean sits up a little straighter, sets the book aside so he can look at his brother properly. "You know what it’s been doing. Hell, you’ve seen it in action. No way in Hell you’re getting anywhere near me like that."

Sam sighs, runs a hand through his hair in what Dean recognizes as an agitated gesture. “That’s not you. You can control it, you’ve proven that.”

"Sometimes." Dean’s voice is quiet, tight. "I can control myself _sometimes_. And- fuck, I don’t want to risk something like that. What if I lost it? What if I hurt you?” Because that’s really what he’s scared of. Hurting his brother, scaring him away, doing something he won’t be able to take back. 

Sam doesn’t look all that surprised, but his face softens a little. He moves to crouch down beside where Dean’s situated himself on the floor, seems to hesitate before taking his hand.

"I trust you," he whispers. "You’re not gonna hurt me. You haven’t yet, right?"

They don’t talk about Dean’s time as a demon. They haven’t for a while, now, and Dean’s grateful for it. Just the idea that he’d come so close to hurting Sam- he can’t even consider how else it might’ve ended. He makes a mental note to thank Cas again next time they see each other.

"But what if I do?" Dean’s voice is just as quiet, even as clutches Sam’s hand just as tight. Because he wants this, too, wants Sam so bad it aches, and they haven’t even _kissed_ since the hospital-

-and then Sam’s closecloseclose, and their lips are pressed together and Dean can’t remember what he was supposed to be saying. 

Dean’s not sure when he moves, but his free hand finds its way into Sam’s hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands, and the kiss goes on for a long time. It’s been too long since he got to taste his brother like this, since he felt Sam’s tongue sliding against his, hot and dirty but this time, somehow, impossibly sweet.

They only break apart after several long seconds, and even then Sam doesn’t pull away, just rests his forehead against Dean’s while they both catch their breath.

"I trust you." Sam repeats the words, whisper-soft, reaches up to cup Dean’s cheek. "You gotta try to trust you, too."

Maybe it’s the words, maybe it what he can hear Sam saying without them. Maybe he’s just overwhelmed by having this back after so long. Whatever the reason, Dean finds himself nodding, swallows hard and glances at the Mark and _wills_ it to stay quiet.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, alright. Okay."

Sam’s smile could probably power a small country, Dean thinks, and then his brother’s standing, pulling Dean with him to get the both of them on their feet.

"Want you inside me," Sam murmurs, lets go of Dean to pull his shirt up over his head. Dean thinks, sort of distantly, that he’s damn glad the sling is gone, but then he’s distracted because Sam’s talking again. "Need it, Dean, need it bad."

If Dean had needed anymore convincing, Sam’s words do the trick. He nods once, meets his brother’s eyes before starting to get undressed. His shirts fall to the floor, and his jeans aren’t far behind. Sam mirrors his movements, and then they’re both left in their underwear and Dean can’t wait any longer, nudges Sam backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sits down, scoots backwards without having to be told. 

Dean crawls on after him, settles himself between his brother’s legs and leans in for another kiss, slow and searing with its intensity before he pulls away again. 

"You been thinkin’ about this?" he murmurs, reaches without looking to the bedside table, opens the drawer and grabs the bottle of lube he keeps there. "Thinkin’ about me? How long you wanted this, Sammy? How bad did you miss it?"

Sam’s already got his legs spread all pretty, and the bulge in the front of his briefs is impossible to miss. He swallows hard, licks his lips. “The whole time,” he whispers. “Even when I was mad, I just- fuck, Dean, missed you so much.”

They’re talking about more than the sex, now, he knows, but Dean doesn’t comment on it. “I’m here now,” he murmurs. “You don’t gotta miss me anymore.”

There’s a moment of fumbling while they both get their underwear off and out of the way, and then they just look, drink each other in. Dean slides his hands down over his brother’s chest, stops when they settle on his hips. 

"Dean, c’mon." He glances up at Sam’s voice, sees the need painted across his brother’s features. "Need you."

Dean just nods, ducks down to pepper Sam’s chest with kisses while he pops the lube open. He catches a perky nipple between his teeth, tugs gently while he slicks up his fingers. He knows neither of them likely have the patience for properly foreplay right now, so he doesn’t spend too much time messing around or teasing Sam like he’s usually fond of. 

Once his fingers are slicked up properly, Dean shifts his attention farther south, doesn’t even need to say anything before Sam’s spreading his legs wide, pulling them up as far as he can. It leaves him open and exposed, has Dean smiling to himself, humming his approval as he moves to start circling Sam’s entrance with one fingertip.

"Bet you’re awful tight," he murmurs, doesn’t glance up. "S’been a while since we’ve done this, huh?"

Sam’s only response is a slightly strangled moan, the kind of sound he makes when he’s trying not to make any sound. It has Dean huffing out a laugh. 

"Yeah, thought so." He waits until Sam’s good and relaxed before pressing his finger in slowly, groaning at the velvety-soft heat gripping his finger.

Dean waits for Sam’s go-ahead, not a verbal confirmation as much as it is a small nod before he gets going properly. It doesn’t take long before he’s crooking his finger up and Sam’s crying out, and everything goes pretty smoothly from there. 

One finger becomes two becomes three, and by then Sam’s begging for it, squirming in place and gasping out Dean’s name and _“please, need it, fuck,”_ and Dean’s not really in the position to deny his little brother something when he asks so pretty. 

"Yeah," Dean says, nods tightly. "Yeah. I’ve got you."

He pulls his fingers out slow and careful, licks his lips as he watches Sam’s ass clench around empty air. He doesn’t waste any time, gets his cock slicked up with a generous amount of lube before lining himself up, the head just barely nudging Sam’s entrance.

"Ready?" He’s breathless, hoarse with arousal, imagine it must show on his face when Sam swallows hard.

"Yeah." Sam nods tightly, hitches his legs up around Dean’s hips. "Do it. Please."

Dean doesn’t need more encouragement than that, starts pushing forward without preamble. He can’t quite stifle a moan; even with the prep, Sam’s tight and warm and soft, clenching so beautifully around his dick. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out, hips flush with his brother’s, and he glances down, meets Sam’s eyes.

"Forgot how big you were," Sam mumbles, but he doesn’t sound like he’s in pain, and it only takes a moment before he shifts his hips impatiently. "C’mon, m’not gonna break, Dean."

Dean just grins at that, ducks down to catch Sam’s lips in a kiss as he starts to pull out, rolling his hips forward again smoothly when he’s pulled out almost all the way.

He fucks Sam slow and deep, moves his mouth over his brother’s skin and starts sucking tiny marks into it. There’s some part of him that revels in claiming Sam like this, marking his territory, and Dean has a feeling that it’s part of what the Mark’s all tied up in. It’s tame, though, which is a nice surprise, and it’s barely given a passing thought as they move together.

More habit than anything else, Dean picks up on Sam’s little tells; the way his breathing picks up slightly, the way his little gasps and moans reach a higher pitch. He’s close, and Dean smiles slow, reaches down between them to get a hold on his brother’s cock, thick and hot and heavy in his hand.

"C’mon, little brother," Dean murmurs, moves his hand in time with the quickening jabs of his hips. "Come for me, Sammy."

One more quick jerk, one swipe of his thumb through the precome gathering at the head and Sam’s gone, cries out his name as he comes, clutching tight to Dean and clenching around him and that’s all it takes.

Dean reaches his peak seconds later, his orgasm milked out of him by the feeling of Sam becoming impossibly tighter around him. He doesn’t slow down, keeps pistoning his hips as they both ride it out, panting and gasping out each other’s names.

By the time time they’re both done, Dean’s worn out and sated like he hasn’t been in ages. He carefully pulls out, flops down next to his brother on the mattress as they both catch their breath.

Sam’s quiet for a moment, nothing but his breath ghosting across Dean’s skin. “You did it.”

Dean blinks his eyes open, doesn’t know when they’d closed. “What?”

"Stayed in control." Sam smiles soft, shifts a little closer until he can bring a hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. "Didn’t hurt me."

Dean thinks that in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t allow this conversation to happen. But he’s always a little more open right after good sex, and this is the best sex he’s had in months. The first time he’s been this close to Sam in as long. 

"Guess not." Dean considers that, then shuffles closer, tangles their legs together and pulls the blanket up over them. "Which means I probably won’t kill you in my sleep. Which is good, because I’m beat."

Sam laughs, shakes his head as he drapes an arm across Dean’s waist. “Yeah, alright. And you bitch about me falling asleep after sex.”

Dean rolls his eyes before closing them and trying not to smile. “You totally do. And you’re the bitch, bitch.”

"Jerk," Sam murmurs, and even as he finally drifts off, it’s impossible to miss the _I love you_ written between the lines.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone. And feel free to come request a ficlet, if you feel like it. :D
> 
> allywriteswords.tumblr.com


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